The cries of the gulls on the restless wind are calling me to the shore, but, alas, I cannot follow.
So I must content myself this morning with the knowledge that someday I will once again walk along the shoreline, poking at treasures and shells as I stroll along the sandy edge of the vast world sea.
Until then?
I shall yearn for the shoreline, feeling the tug of some long-buried ancestral thrall, a remnant from the days of my forebears launching their fishing boats from the craggy shores of Ireland's southern coastline before the dawn broke free. If you listen carefully, you can hear the faintest sounds of their singsong working melody playing softly from where they were etched upon my heart before I was even born.
'Tis a family curse to yearn for the sea, and today it is tugging at me more than usual.
But I will busy myself in response to the calls of the blue jay demanding more peanuts in the feeder, and enjoy the day that I have spreading out before me in all its blue-sky and grassy green of the forest splendor. Because today? Life is good, and although the sea is far from my home, it is never truly far from my heart.
(Photo via SergioTudela.)
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